The lying date
by Ravenlocks303
Summary: Sherlock asks John to help him practice for a date, but little does John know that Sherlock is actually interested in him. Johnlock.
1. Chapter 1

**Please review** , still in progress, rated T for safety later on and such. Check out my other Johnlock stories too, reviews help a lot, constructive critisism also welcome! Enjoy :)

John:

John Watson lived with his best friend- Sherlock Holmes. Together they solved crimes and he blogged about them. John was an army doctor and served in Afghanistan before he was shot and sent home. His life was boring and meaningless before he'd met the man he calls his best friend. Instantly John settled into his new life at 221B and the dangers associated with it. His psychosomatic limp disappeared, he made friends, people cared about him, life was good.

John sat in his chair, pondering how he'd become so lucky to fill this spot in the universe, to be happy and well off. Sherlock burst through their door, clutching a piece of paper, face contorted in annoyance. John looked up from his lap to gaze at the man. Sherlock grunted and flopped on the couch. "Bored." Sherlock groaned into the cushion. "Didn't have anything at the Yard?" John asked. Sherlock held up the paper, face still mushed in the couch. John rolled his eyes, stood up and plucked the paper from Sherlock's slender hands. It was blank. John turned it over in his hands, face moulding into confusion.

"Uh, Sherlock, what's this about?" John asked. Sherlock flipped like a fish on the couch, now facing the ceiling. "Lestrade gave me this in an envelope and told me to go away, I left, assuming this would keep me busy but no! It's a bloody stupid piece of paper. When I returned to Scotland Yard the doors were locked!" Sherlock groaned out. John just chuckled.

Sherlock:

Why did John have to be so adorable when he smiled? Sherlock grunted in frustration due to his lack of being able to close the distance between them. John thought of him as just a friend. The noise passed as annoyance of boredom. Sherlock's feelings for the doctor had been increasing steadily, and the want become more of a need, it was getting unbearable. John stood up and walked up to his room, presumably retiring early to pick up a book for the night. It was only 6:30 and neither had eaten dinner. Not a problem, Sherlock had lasted days without food before. Sherlock sat up, rubbing his hair, thinking. How could he get John?

This was too much… feelings. He wasn't used to it. He needed help. Flipping on his coat, Sherlock strode out of the room, shooting a quick text to Greg to stay at the station a bit longer. Upon arriving at the yard, Sherlock realized he didn't know what he was going to say. Before he could think about it, Lestrade opened the door and let Sherlock in. Without a word the two men walked into a small, bare office and sat on either side of a desk.

"Alright Sherlock, what's the problem?" Greg asked, raising his eyebrows. "Um, John needs advice… uh, he likes this girl at his work and doesn't know how to approach her." Sherlock blurted out, eyes darting back and forth. His (in his mind) brilliant excuse just received a hearty laugh. Sherlock looked taken aback, what did he say?

"Oh Sherlock, this is about your feelings for John isn't it." Sherlock shied away. "So what If it was." Lestrade sighed and responded, "Sherlock, if you want advice it's okay to admit it." Sherlock, still looking at his lap caved, "Alright fine I need advice. How do I approach John? And is it really that obvious that I like him?" Lestrade beamed and happily complied to answer. "There is no doubt in my mind that you love him simply from the way you look at him when he's not looking. It's like… he's the only person that matters, like he's the brightest star in the sky, the only time you look vulnerable is when he's talking to you, shall I continue?" Greg said still smiling. Sherlock blushed. "Erm, no, advice?"

Lestrade was still grinning stupidly. "Well, you could flat-out tell him," Greg suggested. Sherlock dismissed this idea with a wave of his hand. "If you do not offer up a debatable idea I will render you useless." Sherlock coldly replied. Greg stopped smiling. "Wow, you're really serious. Alright, uh, you should drop some hints, let him know that you're there for him, that you will listen to anything he has to say, compliment him, um, you could take him out on a date-" Sherlock held up his hand, stopping the man mid-sentence. "What if I say I'm interested in someone else and ask for his advice and help to proceed? I could ask for his help practising and then reveal that I actually like him!" Sherlock grinned and is eyes widened in glee at his plan.

"Yeah, you could do that," Greg shrugged and before he could say goodnight, Sherlock was up and calling a cab, coat swishing behind him.

Sherlock had been gone for an hour now. Where could he be? John was about to head out the door looking for him before the front door slammed and he heard footsteps racing up the steps. "Sherlock, everything alright?" John asked as Sherlock bounded through the door for the second time that day, panting. "Alright, great, brilliant!" Sherlock giddily shouted. Perplexed, John shook his head and receded to his room. Sherlock went into his own room, planning for his 'fake-but-not-really-fake-date tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock:

Sherlock was up all night thinking of the perfect date to plan for John. Accounting John's interests but making sure to keep it subtle and not too obvious was a difficult task. Several times Sherlock threw a pillow across the room in frustration, knocking over his music stand and scattering the sheet music.

Bar? Probably not the best idea. Fancy restaurant? Too sophisticated. Angelo's? Hmm, familiar, classy, holds memories. Perfect. Okay, dinner at Angelo's, what else?. Then he would take John back to their flat and attempt to make a stronger move. Perhaps a movie. Dinner and a movie. Yes, alright. Sherlock buzzed with excitement and shook with nervousness. What if John didn't realize his hints, didn't want more than a friendship?

Sherlock swiped away his doubts, only thinking about how to make the evening more perfect. Around 6 in the morning Sherlock decided to get up and make some tea. John awoke not long after, flopping down on his chair in his PJs. An hour passed in silence, each man respectively drinking their tea and reading. It was time.

John:

John was reading a particularly boring book about this poet who lost his cat. He was kind of glad when Sherlock cleared his throat and attempted conversation.

"John?" John looked up and closed his book. "Yea?" Sherlock exhaled. "I need your help. I've recently taken interest in someone and am ready to approach them. I have a plan and was wondering if you would practice executing it with me tonight." Sherlock spoke in one breath, a blush creeping in on his cheeks. John stared blankly. "You… want me to go on a practice date… with you?" John asked. "Yes." Point response. "You've… taken an interest in someone?" John asked, denying the jealousy deep in his heart. "Yes, need I repeat the part that I wish to practice tonight as well?" John shook his head, surrendering. "No... Erm, uh, sure yeah. Tonight then, what time?"

"Be ready at 6." Sherlock said with a grin that lit up the room. John cleared his throat and nodded. His stomach was churning. Nervousness? Jealousy? Love? He couldn't say.

The day couldn't have gone slower. The boys spent the day at Scotland Yard, working on a rather uninteresting case. John noticed Lestrade glancing between the two of them, winking at Sherlock, smiling at John. What was up with that? John approached Greg when Sherlock was in another room. "Hey, uh Greg. Um, is there something going on? You keep smiling at me and Sherlock and it's kinda weird." Greg's eyes widened and he was quick to answer. "No, no nothing's going on, I'm just happy, that you guys are such great friends." John cringed at the last word, he didn't know why though.

Greg continued to beam as John suspiciously walked away.

Sherlock:

It was 5:30. John was next to him in a cab, gazing out the window with his brown eyes. Sherlock couldn't help but stare at the wonder of a man beside him. John either didn't notice or didn't care. Paying the cab, walking in the flat, nodding at John and retreating to his bedroom, Sherlock was nervous. Hands clammy, head pounding kind of nervous. Sherlock dressed in his purple button down and casual trousers. That's subtle enough, but classy. Rubbing his hands through his hair, Sherlock exited his room and paused in the doorway. John was standing at the door, ready to leave.

Sherlock's breath caught in his throat, seeing his crush in a fine casual outfit of jeans and a cozy jumper. Why? He's dressed normally? Sherlock dismissed his thoughts and gestured at the door. "Shall we?" Sherlock asked. John giggled, _God that smile,_ and followed Sherlock out the door and into the cool evening. The sun was setting, shooting out glorious rays of orange and yellow light. John looked amazing bathed in the light, like an angel from heaven.

Upon remembering this was a date, and that Sherlock was supposed to be practicing, held out his arm and looked down at John. "You look very nice this evening," Sherlock said as John wove his arm through Sherlock's. John looked up at him, eyes gleaming. "You know, you might want to say that with a smile, and sound more excited." John said, realizing he was supposed to be helping Sherlock prepare.

John:

Sherlock slid his arm out, straightened up and muttered "right, yes of course." He then smiled brightly at John and held out his arm once more. "How very nice you look this evening." His baritone voice sounded confident with a kick of enthusiasm. "Erm, thank you. Yes that was good." John stammered. "Where exactly are we going?" John asked, turning towards Sherlock. "Angelo's." Sherlock replied. "Why?" John asked, then shrunk back, he'd just questioned where Sherlock was taking him on a date, and it wasn't really for him, it was just practice. But Sherlock seemed unfazed by the question.

"Angelo's holds memories for… the person… and we connected there. I felt it an appropriate location for a first date as well, for it is casual but nice and the food is good." Sherlock summed up. John felt a pang of jealousy. He'd thought that Angelo's was _their_ place, where _they_ connected. Apparently someone else overtook his role in that.

They walked in silence after that, down the block to Angelo's. Sherlock held the door for John, who smiled in encouragement that he was doing good. A waiter led them to a table for two and set a candle between them. John didn't deny it this time, like he usually did. After they ordered their usual, Sherlock prompted conversation.

"So John, how are you this fine evening." Sherlock asked. Playing along, John responded. "Very well thanks, I'm looking forward to accompanying you tonight. What do you have planned?" Sherlock grinned and started to reply happily. "Well, I was thinking that after dinner we would-" but John cut him off. "Sherlock, a tip, people like to be surprised. So tell the girl… erm, guy… um, person…" John stuttered. Sherlock stared at him blankly, so John continued. "Tell em that it's a surprise, it'll keep them excited." Sherlock looked away. "Yes of course. So... ahem… It's a surprise, you'll have to wait and see." John smiled. "I'm looking forward to it."


	3. Chapter 3

John:

The waiter set down an appetizer of garlic bread in front of the two men. The server gave a wink before scampering off back into the kitchen. John awkwardly smiled and reached for the bread knife at the same time as Sherlock. Their fingertips brushed on the metal handle of the knife, John's pulse quickened. They remained like that for a minute, fingers slightly touching, John wanted to grab Sherlock's hand and never let go but this was Sherlock's date, his practice. Sherlock looked a bit lost, staring at their hands.

"John what do I do." Sherlock asked, blushing. "You could offer to cut the bread, or actually hold her… my… their hand." John looked down, embarrassed. Sherlock smiled and gestured to the bread. "Would you like me to cut some for us?" John wanted to hold his hand but his stomach growled and changed his mind. Perhaps Sherlock had something else planned. After cutting and eating the appetizer, the waiter brought out their separate dishes. As John ate his pasta dish, Sherlock watched, staring into John's sparking eyes.

John looked up, "Sherlock, you might want to take at least a few bites, seems a bit awkward staring at someone while their eating." Sherlock looked down at his food. "Right, sorry, it's just that your eyes are so indulging." John blushed and scratched his head. He found Sherlock's eyes attractive as well, deep and stormy and beautiful. "You're eyes are pretty too." John said, and mentally slapped himself. Pretty? Ugh stupid. But Sherlock just grinned.

"So," Sherlock started. "What do you talk about on dates?" John swallowed and placed down his cutlery, clasping his hands together. "Well, they normally ask about the other, but we already know each other…" John smiled. "But I don't know you're favourite color or anything like that, isn't that like basic information?" "I suppose, then again we are far from basic." John chuckled. "Alright, what is Sherlock Holmes's favourite colour?" Sherlock sat back in his chair. "I rather enjoy the colour green, although I secretly enjoy the colour of your eyes more, but they keep changing, so I'm sticking with green." Sherlock stated. John smiled bigger.

Sherlock:

"I like green too, and purple." John said. Sherlock looked down at the purple shirt he was sporting and slyly grinned. John's blushed slightly and asked Sherlock what his favourite movie was. "I have never wasted my time on such nonsense, but I am open to new things, films included. What about you?" Sherlock asked, part of the plan.

"Huh, good question, I like Now you See Me. It's about magicians and a secret organization. We should watch it sometime." Sometime indeed Sherlock thought, grinning

They then ate in respected silence. Finishing up their meals, Sherlock paid the bill and opened the door for John on the way out.

"You know, that was actually pretty nice." John said, grinning up at Sherlock. The other tensed and took up a questioning look. "Why? Did you expect it to be bad?" John's mouth popped open. "No, no, I expected it to be as good as it was, I was just complimenting you." Sherlock relaxed. "Okay. Walk with me?" Sherlock asked. John quirked a smile and walked alongside Sherlock.

The sun had set and stars were twinkling, lighting up the sky like fireflies. The crescent moon hung low in the sky and the craters were visible, deep crevices yet just a shade darker than the rest of the moon. Streetlamps and trees were silhouettes against the sky, the air was cool but not uncomfortable. The evening was perfect, the smell of leaves and _London_ in the air. Sherlock had his London and his John. It was perfect. On the way back to the flat they passed a corner shop. "Wait here." He told John. John barely registered what he said before Sherlock disappeared into the shop, coat trailing behind him.

Sherlock frantically searched the shelves. _Now you See Me. Where is it?_ "Need any help sir?" The greasy shop owner came around. "Um, do you have Now you See Me?" Sherlock asked, regaining his composure. The heavyset owner picked it off the shelves and carried it over to the cash. "Will that be all?" He asked. Sherlock nodded, throwing bills on the counter. "Keep the change, and the receipt," he sputtered before grabbing the DVD, now in a bag, stuffing it in his pocket and clambering out the door. John was still waiting, with a perplexed look. But that was Sherlock for you.

As they silently walked, only the sound of faint traffic in the distant and quiet footsteps on the sidewalk penetrated the peaceful silence. Sherlock became increasingly aware of John's hand brushing his as his arms swung as his sides. Alright, part 2. As John's hand swung back this time, Sherlock took a breath and caught John's fingers. John's arm stopped swinging and Sherlock slipped his fingers through John's warm ones. John's thumb strokes his hand and Sherlock let out the hitched breath.

Going great so far. Sherlock was holding his doctors hand walking in a perfect night. Too soon did the door of 221B creep into their sight. "Should we take the long way?" John asked. Sherlock hummed, "I do have one or two more things up my sleeve," looking into John's eyes. John blushed, or perhaps his cheeks were just cold from the night air. "Alright, proceed." John said and the taller man pulled John along into their flat, hands still clasped together.


	4. Chapter 4

_Please let me know what you think, I love reviews, so thank you those that did :). Hope this chapter is sufficient, let me know what you think and if I should continue and if so how? I'll give creds to your ideas in these notes if you suggest and I use them. Enjoy!_

Sherlock:

Sherlock led John up the stairs into their flat, panting slightly. John walked over and stood in the middle of the room. He asked Sherlock, "So what have you got?" Smiling slyly Sherlock pulled out the DVD and tossed it in the air a few times. "How about a movie?" Sherlock winked. "Sounds great." John answered with a smile. Sherlock slid the DVD in and pressed play. He then sat down on the couch, John joined him. For the first bit they sat a few inches apart.

Sherlock wanted to pull John closer, but didn't want to be sudden or intimating. There wasn't much waiting to do though, for John scooched over on his own, leaning against him. Sherlock sat stiff at first. What now? "John…" "Yes?" "Can I put my arm around you?" John chuckled. "You want a tip?" Sherlock shied, "sure." John pretended to yawn and stretched his arms up and around Sherlock. It was kind of awkward, for Sherlock was taller and John had to reach upward. Retracting his arm, John said "It's a cheesy but smooth move, people like it. You try." So Sherlock stretched his arms up, stretching his chest muscles against the thin shirt he was wearing.

His arm settled around John's shoulders and pulled John into his side more. The movie progressed and slowly the boys slid down, now lying on the couch. John's head rested on Sherlock's chest, right above his heart. One of John's arms was draped over the side of the couch and the other was tucked underneath Sherlock's head. Sherlock had one hand in John's hair and the other around John's waist, holding him close. Sherlock traced circles on John's hip with his hand, which sent shivers up John's spine. Sherlock had a sudden thought. Was he taking advantage of John's kindness? What if he was just doing this to help?

John:

This moment was perfect, warm and comfortable wrapped in each other. "It's Rhodes." Sherlock's voice vibrated through his chest into John's ears, sending John's pulse skyrocketing. "Sorry?" John asked. "Rhodes is the inside man, giving the horseman information." Sherlock hummed. John mumbled for him to be quiet and watch the movie. Sherlock grinned.

They lay in silence for the remainder of the movie, happy where they were. At the end, Sherlock mumbled "Knew it." "Of course you bloody knew it you're a genius." John smirked and stood up. Sherlock also straightened up and looked into John's eyes. Whoever has Sherlock's heart is a lucky bastard John thought. "One last thing." Sherlock said and stood up, walking up to John. He slid his hand into John's and looked down at him. What's he doing? John looked up at the glorious man, and found himself leaning up while Sherlock felt himself leaning down.

A few inches left, a few inches too many, but before John could get his wish he heard a squeal. He jumped from Sherlock to see Mrs. Hudson at the door. He hadn't even noticed her come in! He felt his face brush a bright crimson and stuttered "I… I was just helping Sherlock with something, it's not what it looks like." Sherlock looked a little hurt. Mrs. Hudson just held up her hands, smiling and retreated out of the room like she'd never been there. Sherlock paced over to the now closed door and slid the lock in place.

"Sherlock… I'm sorry. You're interested in someone, it's not fair to you or them for me to be doing this." John painfully said, it was for the best. He would rather not feel guilty. Sherlock walked back towards John and took his hand. "Oh John, as ever you see but do not observe. There has never been anyone but you. You are the only one who can make me laugh, feel joy, you make me alive John." Sherlock said fiercely.

"You mean… this was a real date? You… like me?" John asked, he couldn't get over the fact that this brilliant man actually had feelings for him. Sherlock pulled John close, chest vibrating against John as he whispered "yes."

"Shall we resume then?" John asked, feeling like he won a million dollars. Sherlock leaned down, closing the distance. John enjoyed the soft moment of contact initiated by the other before kissing back harder. John's hands looped around Sherlock's neck, and melted into Sherlock.

Sherlock:

So John did like him back, or so that was the message he received from the eager kissing. Sherlock slid his hands up John's shirt and pushed John against the wall. John moved to kiss his neck, his jaw before returning to the sweet taste of Sherlock's mouth again.

This was what he wanted all along, and it was definitely worth the wait.


	5. Chapter 5

_I thought of one more cute chapter, inspired by a thread (Don't know by who though) It was really cute and inspired this chapter. This will be last chapter. 3_

 **6 months later**

John:

Today was the day. Today he was going to propose. John was so nervous, clammy and sweaty. Sherlock noticed something wrong of course, but his knowledge of feelings was still far too limited to deduce the true meaning of John's strange behavior. John had an idea that he would reenact the first date they went on together. 6 months ago yet still fresh in his mind. Last week he had gone shopping for a ring while Sherlock was out on a case. The velvet box felt like lead in his coat pocket. He was waiting for the right time.

Right now, they were sitting on the couch together, Sherlock's head in John's lap while John read above. John put his book down and ran his hand through Sherlock's curly hair. "Sherlock love, do you want to go to Angelo's tonight, for dinner?" John asked, normally, this was normal. "I'd love to." Sherlock replied. Sherlock loved spending time with John, unregards to when or where. "Great." John said back.

Dinnertime came and the men walked hand in hand down to the restaurant, setting sun behind them. Ripples of light cast across the sky, illuminating Baker Street for a last few moments before dipping below the horizon. Dinner was nice, not much chatter, a lot of smiling and staring into each other's eyes. Sherlock even initiated a game of 'footsies' before their food came. This wasn't the right time though. John sighed as he paid the bill and kissed Sherlock in the middle of the restaurant. Everyone knew about them now of course. It hadn't come to many as a surprise, more of a delight and relief.

Mrs. Hudson especially was ecstatic, and insisted on taking a picture of them the first time they made their relationship public, which was at different times for different people. Mycroft knew immediately of course, from all his eyes and ears everywhere. Molly found out when they walked into the morgue holding hands, Lestrade caught them making out in a crime scene room. That had been a bit awkward and shocking but he was overall supportive. Mrs. Hudson however was the only person they told directly, to her face. The morning after their date. She had been very happy.

Now John was walking under the twinkling stars with Sherlock, his Sherlock and only his. "I can't imagine being this happy with anyone else." John said into the night air. A warm feeling spread through Sherlock. "I love you too John." John's heart fluttered. He hoped the other loved him enough… Not now though. Not yet. John leaned into Sherlock's side, seeking comfort and warmth, the night was getting chilly.

The flat wasn't much warmer than outside, which caused for a need to create their own. Neither complained. John set the movie in and settled in with Sherlock, nestling his head in the taller's neck. "Am I sensing déjà vu?" Sherlock grinned into John's hair. John stiffened, did Sherlock know. "I'm not complaining of course, that night was one of the best of my life." Sherlock continued. John relaxed. He had slipped the ring box into his jean pocket, the lump was covered by his cashmere jumper.

The movie played. Sherlock slipped his hand onto John's hip, and before it could slide further John slipped his own hand to occupy the others. Sherlock was fine to have his slender fingers dance with the strong ones of his doctor. At the end of the movie, John played a reel of his own in his head. The first kiss. John moved to where he was standing 6 months back, where Sherlock had kissed him. Sherlock stood up as well, but moved over to the wall, looking at the yellow spray-painted face staining it.

Sherlock:

It was time. John inhaled. "William?" He started. Sherlock turned to John, face contorting into confusion. "Sherlock." Sherlock corrected him, squinting. "Scott," John poked further. Curious, Sherlock continued the antic. "Holmes." Where was this going? John slipped the box out of his pocket and dropped to one knee. Trembling, he asked. "Watson?"

Sherlock froze. John had just… oh my gosh… His heart was erupting in fireworks, his brain couldn't form words. "Sherlock?" John asked, a bit worried now. Sherlock calmed, a tear forming in his eye. "Yes, yes oh god yes!" He exclaimed before walking over to John, slightly trembling himself. John gently took his hand and slipped on the perfectly simple golden band. Sherlock pulled John to his feet. John placed his forehead against Sherlock's and gripped the other's shoulders. He was smiling in relief and joy and all things good.

"Did you actually doubt me?" Sherlock asked, frowning a bit. John didn't answer, instead tilted his face up and kissed him. This seemed to wipe away any shadows of doubt and nothing mattered but the two of them in that moment.

John moved back and held Sherlock in his arms. "I never doubted you." John managed to say through his tears of joy. He realized that he never did doubt Sherlock, and those thoughts were just his evil subconscious. "Good." Sherlock chuckled.

Sherlock held John, warmth seeping through his thin shirt. "I love you John." Sherlock whispered.

"I know."


End file.
